Found Again
by lovers.dreamers.me
Summary: My life was changed by a boy called Jack Kelly. He changed my veiw of the world. And I changed his. Language. Still working on the rest of it.
1. Chapter 1

I sat in the back of the alley, worried I was gonna freeze to death. I'd have scrunched myself up, knees to chest, but my left knee throbbed and bending it would be torture. Instead, I sat there, back against the wall, and sobbing. I couldn't believe what I had done. I rolled up my left pant-leg. They were stolen. I'd wanted to get a shirt so I didn't look so out of place. Girls don't wear pants. They just don't.

My knee had stopped bleeding. But there was dried blood smeared all down my leg. I tried to move it, but pain shot through my leg. I cried even harder. I couldn't remember how many days it had been since this happened. All I knew was that is kept bleeding on and off. And I hadn't eaten all day.

All I've eaten ever since this happened was scraps of food that were easy to get or that people didn't want anymore. Normally, I'd swipe something then run. But I can't run now.

Dark was falling, and it was getting colder than it already was. I shivered. If I didn't starve, I'd freeze to death. The thought made me cry harder. Then I thought I heard something. I silenced my sobs, though the tears continued to fall.

Someone was whistling. He was coming closer. Then he walked passed the alley. Whistling and strolling along. But he was holder newspapers. I couldn't contain myself anymore. I let out a sob. The boy turned in my direction. He noticed me, and walked over to me. I was now sobbing uncontrollably again.

"Hey, it's okay. What's wrong?" he asked as he bent down next to me. I thought it was obvious, but then I realized my pant-leg had rolled back down. I pulled it back up.

"It's-it's that," I continued to cry, pointing to my knee.

"Holy shit!" he replied. I nodded. "What happened?"

"I got in a fight," I mumbled.

"You ain't a street person, is ya?" he half smiled to himself.

"I'm new ta it."

"I'se think ya should go ta the lodgin' house. Get that cleaned up." I nodded in agreement. Then paused.

"That what?" I asked.

"Lodgin' house. Where I live. I'm a newsie, ya know," he laughed at my not knowledge. I nodded. He stood up. "C'mon." He motioned me to come with him. I just starred. "Ya comin'?"

"I can't walk. Hell, I can't even move," I said. I should be nicer. But it's hard when you're in my shoes. Except I'm not wearing shoes. He bent back

down. That's when I got a really good look at his face. Tanner skin, light brown hair, brown eyes. Even though I had snapped at him, he looked at me in an understanding way.

"Can't walk at all?" he asked.

"Right. Not at all," I replied.

"I bet you could if I helped ya," he smiled. He took my hand and placed my arm over his shoulder. Then he helped me up. "Just don't step on it." He let me put my weight on him as I hopped.

"By the way," I spoke, "I'm Elizabeth."

"Mind if I call ya Lizzie?"

"Not at all."

"And I'm Jack Kelly."


	2. The Lodging House

Jack told me about the newsies and their job. It sounded like a not-so-bad job. We stopped in front of a building. Over the door, a sign read _NEWS BOYS LODGING HOUSE_.

"This is it," Jack said. It didn't look like the best of places to live, but it was damn better than the street. "Home sweet home." He helped me through the door. The first thing I noticed was there were guys _everywhere_.

"Hey! Jackey-boy's back!" A short boy called. "And he's got company!"

"Heya Race," Jack laughed. "This' Lizzie."

"Where'd ya find 'er?" a darker skinner boy asked. Jack nodded to me, asking me to explain.

"I'm new ta the whole street thing. And I got in a fight. I've been stuck in an alley for a day er so," I explained.

"How 'em yer knee," Jack nudged me. I bent down and rolled up my pant leg. There were a lot of oohs and aahs. The questions started flying.

"Who did this ta ya?"

"Does it still hurt?"

How long've ya had that?" And so on. Jack picked me up.

"Questions later. That needs to be cleaned up," he started carrying me up the stairs. A bunch of people followed. "Hey Specs, mind gettin' her somethin' ta eat?"

"No problem, Jack," a boy with glasses went out the door. When we got into the bunk room, Jack set me down on a bunk.

"Everythin's gonna be fine," Jack whispered in my ear. "Now I need you to show me that knee of yers again." I nodded solemnly. I did, but I accidentally brush my hand against it. I cringed. "It's okay, Lizzie. Whaddya think, Race?"

"Go take a shower, Liz," Race decided after a long pause of thought. "There should be some warm water left."

"Go thought. But she needs new clothes," Jack pointed out. I had to be the weirdest looking thing they've ever seen. I had on boys pants and a girl shirt. They didn't exactly go well together. "Anyone gots some old clothes er somethin'?" Some people began rummaging through their stuff. Jack took my hand and rubbed it between his. "You'se freezin'."

"I've been stuck out there for a while," I explained. But I was really cold. Everyone wandered back over. Some empty handed, some with a stray article of clothing. I ended up with brown pants and a white shirt.

"C'mon. I'll help ya over ta the showers," Jack offered. I couldn't help but watch as he took off his vest. I starred at his shirt, his muscles just

barley visible. Instead of helping me, he just picked me back up and walked into the bathroom. "Everyone else'll go back down stairs. I have to go talk to Kloppman. He owns the place. I'll be back up after that." I nodded and hopped over to the showers. I waited till everyone had gone back downstairs, then I undressed and turned the shower on.

I let the warm water cover me. I washed my hair. Then I took the soap and slowly, bent down and cleaned my leg. It began bleeding again. That's when I realized how big it was.

It started on the outside of my left knee. But if I put the bottom of my hand where it started, it ended just past my fingertips. I thought I wan gonna be sick. I turned off the water.

I opened the shower curtain just enough so I could see out. At the base of the shower was socks, shoes, a towel, and anything else I could need that the newsies could give me. But I knew Jack had put them there. I smiled unknowingly. I grabbed the clothes and put them on, still in the shower.

When I finished, I stepped out of the shower and dried my hair with a towel. I picked up the shoes and walked back in the bunk room. Jack was in there, laying a pillow and blanket in the bunk where he had lay me down. I just stood there, watching him.

"Oh, hey Lizzie," he smiled, realized I had been watching him.

"Thanks, for the towel and everything," I smiled back.

"Kloppman says you'se can stay here for free tonight, and till ya can walk again. But then you'se have ta work."

"I'd be a newsie?"

"Yeah. But you don't have to worry 'bout that now."

"No, I think I'll try to work tomarrow."

"Ya sure? It's a lot of walking."

"I'm sure. But thanks for yer concern," I limped over to the bed.

"Would ya like ta tell me how ya got that cut on yer knee?" Jack asked.

"Okay. I was just walkin' through Central Park…"


	3. My story

"…I was just walkin' through Central Park. Before I keep tellin', what's da date?" I asked.

"Da date? Must be…February 26, 1899," Jack said.

"Wow, this happened ten days ago. I didn't realize what day it was," I was still processing the date. I couldn't believe I'd been limping for ten days. And the cut had only gotten worse. "Well, I was walking through Central Park. It was cold, but I was looking for food."

"Did ya steal food?"

"Yeah. I know I shouldn've, but I did. I found nuttin', so I kept walkin'. In short, I walked into an alley. Two guys walked back there and said I was on their turf. Told me ta get off. When I wouldn't, one of em' grbaaed my wrist and tried ta pull me out. I punched 'im." I realized how distinct my accent was, now that I was talking to someone who didn't have then same one as me. "Neither saw it comin'. I don't think I did either. There was a big fight. One of 'em pulled a knife on me, I tried ta run, he got me in da knee. Only it slipped a little. Since den, I've been sittin' in allies. I try ta move ta somewhere else every few days. So I don't raise suspicions. I'd been eatin' whatever I could find. Table scraps, mostly. Couldn't steal no more. I fell asleep in dat alley where ya found me. It was a few days back. I woke up and couldn't move it."

"Did ya happen ta catch da boys' names?" Jack asked. I thought really hard for a second, scanning my mind.

"Morris and Oscar…I think they called each other." Jack let out a groan. "What?"

"They'se always cause us trouble," he explained. The boy named Specs ran up the stairs. He had some bread.

"Here Jack," Specs handed it to Jack, who handed it to me. I bit into it happily. There was a few seconds of silence while I polished it off.

"Dat's good!" I smiled, with my mouth full. Jack laughed, half heartedly. Specs went back downstairs.

"Ya should probably get some sleep…" Jack said, though not moving. He was sitting next to me, starring into space. Slowly and unsurely, I reached my hand behind him and lightly rubbed his back. He didn't seem to mind. After a few minutes, I took it down.

"What's wrong, Jack?" I gazed into his eyes.

"Lizzie, have ya ever wanted ta tell someone somethin', but not know how?"

"What?"

"Have ya ever wanted ta somethin' important ta someone, somethin' good, but not sure what they'd think?"

"Sure," I shrugged. Even though I was completely lost. He shook his head, as if trying to pull himself out of his thoughts. "What is it?"

"Nuttin'," he lied. "But I do love yer accent. Where's ya from?"

"Mum was from Ireland, Pa was from England. I was born here, though. But I got both ends of the accents," I smiled, then felt my cheeks turn red. No one had ever said they loved my accent. Actually, lots of people said it was annoying. I said the annoying part out loud.

"Hm. I'se don't think it's annoyin'," Jack was still looking at the wall. "I love it. And I think I love ya, too."


End file.
